


A Teaching Moment

by conquerorofheaven



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, First Time, Halloween, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Teacher-Student Relationship, Tomarry Halloween Exchange 2018, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 05:03:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16381940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conquerorofheaven/pseuds/conquerorofheaven
Summary: Harry has been the star of his Defense classes for the last six years, but now he can't seem to keep his eyes off the new Defense Professor.  His performance might be taking a hit, but little does he know that Professor Riddle has been watching him as well.Vietnamese translation now available at the following link thanks to Libertyparty!https://uniworldcom.wordpress.com/2018/11/27/a-teaching-moment/





	A Teaching Moment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mzuul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mzuul/gifts).



> This is my first time doing voyeurism, so I hope it's okay. The ending is kind of abrupt, but I'm open to writing a sequel someday if anyone is interested. Enjoy!

_I wonder if he ever needs to shave._

The errant thought fluttered in his mind like a gnat on a summer evening. 

Harry found his eyes drifting towards the man’s body, sliding past his perfectly shaped lips and pale, flawless skin to settle on his chest. Professor Riddle’s robes hugged his skin just so, impeccably tailored to display both masculinity and elegance. 

_What am I thinking?_

Harry watched as Riddle’s lips moved again, catching just the slightest hint of tongue moving behind the sly smile. He couldn’t hear anything the man was saying. It was rather worrying really. Defense Against the Dark Arts was both his best class and his favorite, but ever since Professor Riddle had taken up Remus’ post he’d found his ability to focus in class dramatically declining. 

He saw Riddle gesture with his hands, the movements naturally graceful and utterly enthralling. Riddle had long, slender fingers. Pianist’s hands, Harry thought, though he’d never been given any indication that the Professor actually played the piano. Hands like those were one in a million, certainly, but he was sure that Riddle took care to keep them well groomed. 

_Like his hair._

“—Harry!” 

It was Hermione’s frantic not-quite-whisper that startled him out of his daze. Harry took his first real look around the room and realized that, not only was he the center of attention, but that Professor Riddle was wearing something of a smug expression. 

“Mr. Potter,” he drawled, the smooth baritone of his voice nearly making Harry shiver. “You would do well with less distractions in your life. Detention. With me. Tonight.” 

Harry paled. Losing points was one thing, but a detention with Riddle? He didn’t think he’d survive the ordeal. 

“But tonight’s the Halloween feast!” Ron exclaimed. 

“I am aware of that Mr. Weasley.” Riddle sent Ron a sharp look that had him shrinking away. “And perhaps if this was Mr. Potter first offense I would be willing to be lenient. Unfortunately, this is no less than the 3  rd time he has been reprimanded for this exact offense. Were I not given such glowing praise of his aptitude for Defense by my predecessor, then I would believe he simply wasn’t interested. As it is,” 

“I believe Mr. Potter would benefit from some closer instruction.” 

Harry wasn’t sure if the statement was meant to be suggestive, but he found that it was anyways. Riddle finally removed his searing gaze and returned to the front of the classroom, allowing Harry to slump into his seat in relief. 

“You will be graduating in less than a year, Mr. Potter. Act like it. Class dismissed.” 

Harry didn’t move for a few seconds, the burning embarrassment he felt from being dressed down in front of the entire class freezing him in place. Eventually though, the prospect of being left alone with Riddle motivated him to overcome his self-pity. 

As he left, Harry thought he saw Riddle take one last look at him, wearing what was undeniably a smirk. 

“What were you thinking, Harry?” 

Hermione near talked his ear off, going on and on with emotions ranging from outrage to chilling disappointment. He felt he was obligated to defend himself, but the reality was that there was really no reason for his lack of focus lately. Or rather, his lack of focus in Defense classes. 

“Hey mate, is there something wrong? Like maybe you don’t like Riddle or something?” 

“But what’s wrong with Professor Riddle?” Hermione exclaimed. “I know you and Professor Lupin were close, but as far as Defense Professor’s go we could have gotten a lot worse.” 

“He’s a snake, ‘Mione!” 

Hermione shot Ron a searing look, as though daring him to use the fact that their professor was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself as an insult. Harry wasn’t sure where he fell on the issue. On the one hand, he’d been raised into a staunchly pro-Gryffindor household and his father and godfather had only reinforced any pre-existing anti-Slytherin sentiments. Aside from that, Malfoy and his goons had pretty much turned him away from the House entirely. 

With that said, Riddle was exceptional in just about every way. The man was the record holder for the highest number of Os on the NEWTs. Apparently after graduating, he’d gone on some sort of world travelling odyssey, returning with some of the most groundbreaking magical innovations in the last century. And now, after a brief stint in politics, the man had decided he’d rather teach at his alma mater rather than take any of the much higher paying jobs he was most certainly offered. 

Calling Riddle qualified would be massive understatement. 

“It’s fine you guys, I can take the detention. I bet you Riddle won’t even be supervising me for most of it. Surely, he’s got better things to do.” 

Harry tried to keep his tone light to conceal the anxiety bubbling beneath his skin. He couldn’t even handle being near Riddle during classes. How the hell was his supposed to last an hour when the two of them were alone? 

  


Night fell in spite of Harry’s anxiety. The moment of his prior ‘appointment’ with Riddle was inching ever closer minute, by minute. 

_It’s just a detention, Harry. Suck it up._

The admonishing tone of his Gryffindor side sounded quite like his father on occasion. James Potter, who had been legendary for the number of detentions he’d racked up over the course of a mere 7 years. 

Harry, for all that he tried, could never bring himself to be exactly like his father, though. His early memories of James and Sirius imparting familial knowledge on the importance of pranking always ended rather anti-climactically. 

In his first week at Hogwarts he’d received all manner of correspondence from his mother warning him to stay out of trouble. Meanwhile, his father had sent his own letters, countering Lily’s parental guidance with childish dares and suggestions. Harry had wisely ignored most of them and only sampled some of the more innocuous ones. 

Releasing Hagrid’s penned animals or tricking the house elves into spiking everyone’s pumpkin juice just wasn’t Harry’s idea of a good time. 

But he could only distract himself from the impending reality for so long. It was now three minutes past 8 and Harry knew any more delay would surely lead to an even greater punishment. He knocked on the door and waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

“Professor?” He called. Perhaps, against all reason, it was Riddle who was late, but turning the knob he could tell that the door was unlocked. It was more likely that Riddle had been distracted by something in his private chambers and had not noticed Harry’s arrival. 

Yeah, that made sense. 

Summoning the last scraps of his vaunted Gryffindor courage, Harry entered the room. The appearance of the office was not as foreign as he was expecting. In fact, it seemed that the new Professor had decided to leave the general layout of the office as it was and instead focus on changing the furnishings and decorations. The unmistakable greens and silvers tastefully coiling about in the form of rugs, armchairs, paintings and tapestries really couldn’t have been attributed to any other man than Tom Marvolo Riddle. 

Who, in fact, was not off to the side, distracted with the experimentation of some revolutionary new spell, as Harry had expected. 

Barely a minute in and Harry was ready to leave and consider lucky for dodging a bullet, but there was a sound, a faint whispering that made his skin prickle with goosebumps. It was coming from a door on the far wall of the office, one which he was certain hadn’t been their while Remus was teaching. And as fate would have it, that door had been left ajar. 

Now, Harry was not like his father, for the most part. Or at least, that was what he told himself. Indeed, Harry had come by his perilous curiosity honestly. There was little that could have piqued his curiosity more than the rising tone of whispers and unmistakeable humming of powerful magics pulsing outward from that slightly open door. 

The real question was, did his desire to stay far away from Riddle outweigh that desperate need to know more? 

Harry was already halfway across the room before he realized that, no, it did not. He saw an indefinable pale figure before his vision focused and he abruptly realized that he was looking at his Professor. 

Completely naked. 

Riddle was quietly murmuring, his body positioned in the center of a vast array of runes and candles. He sat cross legged on the carpeted floor, seemingly unaware of the image he presented as well as the horribly embarrassed student who was observing him. In that moment, with the glow of his ivory skin beneath the light of the fire, clearly defined muscles on full display, Harry felt as though he were witnessing something terribly forbidden. 

The hiss of the Professor’s snake nearly made him jump out of his skin, Riddle’s responding hiss didn’t help either. 

Harry had always thought the sound of parseltongue would be discomforting, horrifying even. The way it was described in books made it seem like nails on a chalkboard increased to an unsettling degree. But the only thing he found unsettling was how much he _enjoyed_ it. 

The sounds were like caresses, musically dipping from one tone to the next. Harry couldn’t make heads or tails of anything that was being said, but he knew he didn’t want to stop listening either. 

_What am I doing?_

Harry attempted to step back and scurry out of the office, but soon found that he was so utterly entranced that he couldn’t move. It was hypnotic, those sounds, and the sight nearly made him keen. Whether it was from fear or pleasure, Harry didn’t know. 

And that, made him so very confused. 

He swallowed as quietly as he was able, hoping desperately that his shameful intrusion would go unnoticed. He really was despicable, wasn’t he? He was there to be punished for failing to pay attention in class and here he was peeping on his professor. 

In secret no less! As though he were some sort of sneaking pervert! 

Harry was absolutely certain of only one thing, and that was that he needed to leave. He needed to leave, and he needed to do it now before he was discovered. What would happen if he was found? Riddle may tolerate his disrespect in class, but this act was so appalling, such an invasion… the man would eat him alive. 

It was this thought that finally ripped Harry from his trance and made him move back. Unfortunately, the action was far less nimble than he had intended, and all he managed was a rather graceless stumble that left him sprawled on the floor. 

The hissing stopped. 

Harry bit his lip hopelessly, dread pooling within him. The door that had been open just a mere crack swung eerily on its hinges to reveal the entirety of the room that he had been spying on. 

As well as his Professor. 

“Mr. Potter, as odd as this particular encounter may be, I can’t say I am surprised to see you here.” The man, rather than looking upset, enraged by the breach of privacy as Harry had expected, looked pleased. As though Harry had done something that he had been hoping for. 

“After all, I did invite you.” 

“Wha—?” 

Harry paled, entirely unwilling to believe what was just implied, but realizing that there were very few other explanations. 

Professor Riddle had assigned him a detention, he had specified the time and location of his choosing, and he had anticipated that Harry would arrive as scheduled. The man was no fool either. The idea that he had simply forgotten about their prior arrangement was near impossible. 

Harry wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to convince himself that this was all some sort of unfortunate accident, but short of saying it outright, Riddle was now openly admitting to his duplicity. 

He curled away, his fear still not quite managing to stamp out his lingering embarrassment. 

“Do come in _Harry_. You have yet to serve your detention.” 

“I don’t think that would be appropriate Professor.” Harry was proud that he’d managed to string together those few words, especially considering the way Riddle had said his name. It was like he was savoring it, tasting the syllables as they left his mouth. 

He blushed fiercely at the thought. 

“I can see you’re busy Professor. I think it’s best if we reschedule… or something.” Harry made it to his feet, his stance prepared to dash out of the room if he thought it necessary. 

Riddle didn’t seem to be at all phased by his student’s reluctance, nor discomfited by his own lack of clothing. In fact, he had a rather suggestive smirk appearing on his handsome features. His red eyes appeared particularly bright tonight, like blood on snow as they dilated with delight. 

With a gesture and a thought, Harry found himself tumbling into the ritual chamber, landing right in front of his professor as the door slammed behind him. If Harry was uncertain before, he was positively terrified now. The man was looking at him like he was a piece of meat! 

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Riddle uncoiled himself from his seated position and moved to loom over Harry’s fallen position. “I did promise to give you some closer instruction, _Harry_. You will find that I am very much a man of my word.” 

The man was touching him now, his hands gently trailing over Harry’s face, drifting down towards his neck. Riddle lifted his chin so that he could look deeply into his eyes, the still burning fireplace making them dance with the light. 

“W-why are you doing this?” 

Was this a trick? Was he being played with? Riddle was a genius. He was a politician. He was the pureblooded heir to the Slytherin fortune. The man could have anyone he wanted, why was he bothering to mess around with Harry, the boy who didn’t have anything to his name. 

“You are so much more than you know, _Harry_.” He answered seriously. “I see your potential, the power you wield when you believe that no one is watching. It is entrancing.” 

Harry was laid out beneath the man, eyes wide and disbelieving. He wasn’t anything special. In class, he could barely stutter out his spells when Riddle was watching. People like Hermione, who knew the textbooks from back to front, or his mother, who had earned her charms mastery in spite of the prejudice against her, they were the special ones. He was just Harry. 

“I can see you doubting yourself. That is fine. Now that I’ve found you I will have plenty of time to convince you of your worth in the future.” 

He felt himself flush again. That was all well and good, but it still didn’t explain why Riddle was naked on top of him. It seemed that the other realized where his attention was drifting because he smirked coyly and brushed his leg between Harry’s own. 

The sensation made his back arch and his eyes flutter. The room was still filled with the remnants of whatever ritual Riddle had been engaged in before he was interrupted, and the magic prickled against his skin until his whole body was oversensitized. 

Riddle leaned in, his lips brushing against Harry’s ear as he spoke in a low voice. 

“I will not force this _Harry_. I admit I have been craving you for a long while, but I will not take what I so desperately desire. You will have to give it to me.” 

Green eyes teared with agony. He wanted nothing more than for his Professor to touch him and yet the other man refused? He demanded that Harry make the first move? Well then, he was, after all, a Gryffindor. 

Harry lifted his arms and drew the man towards him, kissing him full on the lips. As their tongues met and dueled for dominance he tried to convey all the tangled feelings he had been suffering through for the last few months, all the shyness and confusion, the fascination and the lust. Everything he had tried to ignore came bursting forth. 

Riddle purred in pleasure, a twitch of his fingers stripping Harry of his clothes. Now they both were naked, the fireplace and candles keeping the room pleasantly warm, though neither would have noticed it. The heat spreading between their bodies was more than enough to keep away the cold. 

Harry felt his lips being bitten. He was drowning in sensation. When Riddle finally took his arousal in hand, Harry just about burst. 

He ground his hips, moving them in a desperate attempt to find release. 

“Please,” he cried, not sure what it was he was begging for. 

“Not so fast, _Harry_ ,” the man purred. “I’ve barely even begun to teach you.” 

His professor slipped a hand between his legs, long fingers pressing at the entrance of his hole. Harry turned his face away, mortified. He’d never done anything like this before, he’d never even dreamed of doing something like this. 

“Shhh, relax,” Riddle soothed, and against all reason Harry felt his body comply, relaxing as his professor plied him open gently and twisting his fingers against Harry’s insides. 

He moaned loudly when Riddle touched something inside him, something that made him nearly black out from pleasure. 

“That, Harry, is your prostate,” he whispered, smiling devilishly all the while. 

All at once Riddle removed the fingers that had been driving him crazy for the last several minutes, leaving Harry empty and aching. He could see now that his professor’s cock was at full attention, and probably had been for some time now. It pressed against his entrance, seemingly far to large to fit. 

Harry had a brief moment of panic before he realized that Riddle’s cock was already moving inside of him. He breathed shallowly, trying to obey the man’s soothing reassurances as he was impaled. 

It was so hot. Like he was burning alive from the inside out. Harry still didn’t understand even half of what he was feeling, but he knew that he didn’t want it to stop. 

Each thrust targeted his newly discovered prostate with absurd precision. It was all designed to make Harry unravel. The inexperienced schoolboy panted and moaned with every movement. 

With one last chaste kiss, Harry was brought to his limit, his body tensing like a bow string as he was finally able to release. Riddle hissed at the sudden tightness surrounding his cock, soon following a few thrusts later. 

They both lied there, on the floor, naked as the day they were born. Harry had just been through something new and exciting, but utterly unknown. His professor was a Slytherin, and yet he had been so gentle, so careful to see to Harry’s pleasure first. 

Harry had been enthralled with what was happening to him. He wanted to reciprocate, to give back some of that pleasure, but he was unable, for he did not know how. 

But that was okay. For now, at least. After all, Professor Riddle had promised to teach him. 


End file.
